


In the Blush of Dawn

by rosegukk



Series: Daydreaming | Original Monsta X Drabbles [8]
Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-17
Updated: 2019-09-17
Packaged: 2020-10-20 06:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 347
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20670932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rosegukk/pseuds/rosegukk
Summary: Hyungwon admires you in the morning.





	In the Blush of Dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please leave a kudos and/or a comment if you enjoyed ♡♡♡

When the moon set and the sun is yet to rise, Hyungwon finds himself breathing in the Prussian blue of a too-early morning. A dream of heady whispers and sweat-dampened silk pricked him from slumber, setting a staccato beneath his ribs and a familiar heat under his boxers.

Bony fingers slip across the crumple of bedding to anchor to the gentle curve of your hip. He pushes lower, over the delicate lace of your panties to draw lazy lines and circles. He watches your face as feathers of pleasure reach you in your dream. You stir, dark lashes revealing bleary eyes.

His face is close and he bridges the gap in a breath to kiss you languidly. Slow; everything is so slow in the quiet hush of a new day. Slowly, lazily, tauntingly, he kisses you, never in a rush to take more. 

You come undone with a sigh, a ripple of disruption to the placid air. 

Hyungwon moves between your legs, hands pressing into pliant flesh until your knees touch your chest.

“Stay just like that for me, princess,” he whispers, sitting upright. He shakes back his long onyx hair, brushing it away from his forehead with delicate fingers.

He nudges your panties to the side and rubs his length against your slick. Your moan of satisfaction is echoed in him as he slides into you.

His moonless eyes watch himself enter and leave you and he bites into the incarnadine flush of his lower lip. 

“You’re so fucking _creamy_, baby girl. Do I feel that good, hm?” he asks with an air of wonderment.

He takes his time in his relishing of you. 

Slowly, lazily, tauntingly.

He fills the awakening morning with the whimpers of your pleasure, a birdsong he would be loathed to find elsewhere. 

And as the blush of dawn creeps between the quiet rustle of leaves, he drinks in the way it tinges your skin and paints in the bliss that covers your features. An exquisite work of art admired all the more in a new light and for his eyes only.


End file.
